


Clandestine

by Saturn9



Series: Clandestine [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Boys Kissing, General fluff, M/M, maybe AU maybe not (reader's choice?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-08 20:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15937490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saturn9/pseuds/Saturn9
Summary: Akira and Goro meet at a park late at night to kiss and talk about feelings.





	Clandestine

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick practice ficlet to write the boys for the first time... Wanted some fluff with a touch of bittersweet!

It was a nice night, Akira mused. The air was balmy, as it usually was during this time of year, but there was a breeze that carried the fragrance of the night-blooming jasmine on its wings; the sky was clear, lit by a half-moon and the dozen or so stars that managed to poke through the light pollution of the city. Besides the celestial bodies and the twinkling lights of the city in the distance, Akira was alone at the park; more or less removed from the bustle, it settled into a peaceful quiet as he waited. The locusts chirped in the trees to provide the summer night a fitting ambient white noise. 

Ann would have called it romantic; Akira could already hear most of the girls agreeing while Ryuji complained about the sticky heat. 

Maybe Ann would have been right, if Akira weren’t meeting Goro. 

Goro Akechi was trouble. He was polite and refined, but he had an edge to him that made Akira feel warm all over, and the harder he tried, the more Akira found that he didn’t really want to stay away. His friends probably would have had a different mind about it, but well, that was why their meetings were a secret. No one could know how deep Akira was in with Goro-- not Ann, not Makoto, and most definitely not Ryuji. 

“You came.” Goro’s voice was soft, polite as always. 

There was something dark inside Akira that wanted to say something awful, just to hear the boy snap. Instead, Akira just leveled a look at Goro, drinking in his tailored jacket, his wind-mussed hair, the gloves that hid his dainty hands. It must have been warm, but Goro was always overdressed. 

“Haven’t I always?” Akira replied smoothly. He held his hand out in invitation for Goro to join him, sitting side by side in the grass. Goro hesitated for only a moment-- no doubt thinking about the potential for staining his trousers-- before he settled in next to Akira. 

“I always think you’ll…” Goro trailed off for a second, as if he were searching for the words. “Cancel,” he finished lamely, but Akira could read between the lines well enough. The detective was waiting to be stood up, played for a fool. 

Akira didn’t think he had a strong enough constitution to do something like that to Goro. 

At first, he’d thought the detective was a bit spoiled. Maybe it was the nice clothing, his refined poise, the screen time on the major news networks. But then they kept running into each other, and Goro kept saying things that surprised him. Things that made Akira think that maybe Goro wasn’t that lucky after all. 

Things that made Akira think that maybe they didn’t have to be alone anymore. 

“I’m not going to ‘cancel,’” Akira said, stressing the last word. As he spoke, Goro turned to look at him again, and just like always, Akira found himself lost. In the moonlight, the detective was an angel; his pale skin was as bright as a firework, and just as warm pressing into Akira’s personal bubble. 

Goro smiled back at him, that smile that made Akira’s skin crawl, because of a creeping feeling that there was something hard behind it. 

“I know,” Goro said. 

It was such an obvious lie Akira didn’t even bother calling it. 

Instead, Akira tilted his head forward and captured the detective’s lips. Goro sighed softly into him, one gloved hand rising to linger on Akira’s neck. Even that simple touch ignited sparks in Akira’s gut. 

“I like you,” Akira murmured against Goro’s lips. “Not Detective Akechi. You you. Goro.” 

“Is there a difference?” The reply was as smooth as Akira might have expected, spoken a hair’s breadth from his lips, like the real Goro was as collected as he’d ever appeared to be on camera. 

Akira smiled, a little devious and somewhat daring under cover of night. “Detective Akechi doesn’t sneak out late at night to kiss boys in parks.” 

Goro drew back, a sharp, bemused smirk playing on his own lips. 

That, Akira thought to himself. Anything besides that damned polite smile was just fine. 

“Neither does Goro,” the detective said. He wasn’t even defensive, just amused, maybe even playful. 

“Really,” Akira said flatly, despite the smile still stretching across his face. 

“There’s just one boy,” he continued, and for some reason Akira’s heart pounded in his chest. They hadn’t really discussed details of their relationship-- and maybe Akira knew, logically, that there probably wasn’t anyone else in Goro’s life, seeing as how often they sought out each other’s company. Hearing Goro say it, though, was a whole different story. 

“Lucky boy,” Akira found himself whispering. Goro’s lips were drifting closer again, and Akira found his eyes lingering on the curve of his smile, the flash of white teeth behind his lips. 

There was no verbal response; Goro only leaned forward and closed the distance between them again, lips soft and gentle, always polite, never pushing too hard, too fast. It rubbed Akira the wrong way-- he latched onto the lapels of Goro’s jacket and pulled. Goro’s startled gasp broke the kiss, but Akira simply leaned back and pulled Goro until they were chest to chest, Akira’s back on the ground, with two gloved hands positioned for support on either side of his head. 

“Akira, what are you doing?” The sound of his whispered name flushed Akira with excitement and only made him more daring. 

“Testing my luck,” Akira replied. He pulled at Goro’s jacket again, meeting for a firmer kiss, relishing the swell of Goro’s chest as he inhaled sharply. Aside from their first kiss-- heated, stolen late in an abandoned subway car the first time Akira ever heard Goro raise his voice-- they had been rather chaste. Honestly, Akira didn’t mind; all he wanted was to get under the detective’s skin the same way Goro had gotten under his. 

“Wait,” Goro breathed into Akira’s mouth, and damn if loosening his death grip on that stupid jacket wasn’t the hardest thing Akira had ever had to do. “I don’t-- you shouldn’t--” For once, Goro’s words seemed to fail him. His dark eyes met Akira’s, searching for answers that Akira wasn’t sure he had yet. When he couldn’t find the excuse he was looking for, he added, “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Akira said; with a gentle smile, he brushed back the hair that hung in Goro’s face, tucking it behind the other’s ears. “I told you; I like you.” 

“And what if you don’t know the real Goro?” 

It was the first time Goro had spoken that fear out loud. Akira had glimpsed it before; he knew of Goro’s need to be liked, the boy’s willingness to work or bend or break until someone applauded him. He knew Goro’s fake pleasant smile and the sharp tongue that hid behind it, afraid that he might be deemed unworthy. And truth be told, that harsh, intense, needy Goro was the one Akira liked the most. 

“I’ll just have to keep hanging out at parks until I finally get to meet him.”


End file.
